


Beekeeper

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Consensual Underage Sex, Gellert is a jealous ex, Gellert is in his forties, Grooming, Harry and Credence are BFFs, Jealousy, M/M, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Time Travel, Underage - Freeform, harry is 16, not as dark as it sounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18011495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: Reeling from the loss of Sirius and Voldemort's return to power, Harry soon finds himself falling for the handsome, older man he meets in Little Whinging. They strike up a secret relationship, and Harry is smitten, and completely unaware that the man he's falling in love with is Gellert Grindelwald, sent into the future from the 1940s and ready to seek revenge on Dumbledore





	Beekeeper

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final WIP I'm creating, and then I'm going to finish all of them before I start any others lol 
> 
> I couldn't get this idea out of my head though, because I guess I just love to ship Harry with bad guys. But anyway, I really hope you like this, and be sure to let me know your thoughts :) It's going to start out on the Dark side, but Gellert is going to underestimate Harry's heart, and actual romance will happen (in a twisted way, of course :D)
> 
> Title comes from the song 'Beekeeper' by Keaton Henson, because it just feels like a Gellert Grindelwald anthem

“Get your stuff, in, Boy, hurry,” Vernon snapped. “I don’t have all day.”

Harry didn’t reply, not in the mood to get into an argument. He struggled to pull Hedwig’s cage and his trunk out of the boot of the car without any assistance from his scowling uncle. He finally managed to pull everything together and trudged inside.

Petunia and Dudley were sitting in the front room. Dudley offered him a weak smile, but neither made any attempt at conversation which suited Harry just fine. He dragged his stuff upstairs, gave Hedwig an owl treat for her trouble, and flopped onto his bed. 

Now he was back in the Muggle world, the haze from the last month was finally beginning to fade. Sirius was dead, and Voldemort was once again active. Thankfully the Ministry finally believed Harry and Dumbledore, but it was too little, too late. In the year they’d denied the truth, Voldemort had been gaining momentum and gathering followers, old and new alike. 

Every day the news had a story to tell of a new attack, and the attacks seemed to be getting worse and worse. The Muggles were blaming an unknown eco-terrorist group, but even if they knew the truth, there was nothing they could do. 

Harry had wanted to stay with the Order and help in the fight, but Dumbledore had insisted that Harry went back to the Dursleys again. Not only was Petunia’s blood protection more important than ever, Dumbledore had said Harry deserved a month of peace. 

That was a wild idea, peace. Between grieving for Sirius and worrying about Voldemort, Harry didn’t think he’d get a moment’s peace no matter where he was. But still, it was only a month, and Dumbledore had promised he’d personally collect him from the Dursley’s mid-July to take him to the Burrow. 

Harry was pleased they wouldn’t be staying at Grimmauld Place again; he didn’t know if could face it, and it was probably better for Kreacher’s safety that Harry stayed away. 

In the meantime, he’d just stay out of his aunt and uncle’s way and count down the days until he could leave--just the standard summer holiday at the Dursleys.

**xXx**

Harry sighed, twisting his fingers around the swing set chains, and scuffing his trainers against the rubber flooring beneath his feet. There was an unnatural chill in the air, a light mist creeping along the ground. The Muggles believed it was some kind of freak storm, but Harry knew the frosty touch of Dementors better than he would have liked. 

Still, the awful weather was keeping most of the families of Little Whinging inside, and Harry could brood in the local playground alone. His aunt and uncle made it clear they didn’t want him in the house all day long, and Harry didn’t much fancy spending his time around them anyway. 

The problem was that the days were just _dragging_ by. There was nothing for Harry to do--nothing he _could_ do--while in the meantime, Voldemort’s forces were growing ever stronger. Bellatrix Lestrange was amongst those, living it up while Sirius was dead because of her. 

A fresh wave of hurt and anger coursed through Harry at the thought of the events at the Department of Mysteries, and all at once just _sitting_ felt like the worst thing he could do. He jumped off the swing, and pulled the hood of his hoodie up over his head to protect himself from the chill. 

Wandering around the town was nearly as exciting as sitting on a swing set, but at least it used up some energy and gave his mind a few distractions. The few people who were out and about glared at him as he passed, and he knew what they all thought of him--the Dursleys hadn’t kept quiet about their ‘St Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys’ story. 

As a result, Harry was surprised when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. His first instinct was that a Death Eater was there to attack him, and his hand was already on his wand as he swirled around. He was pleased he hadn’t actually drawn his wand from his pocket, because he found himself face to face with a Muggle...which made sense, because a Death Eater wouldn’t have declared himself to offer Harry a chance to attack or escape. 

“Sorry for startling you,” the man said, his voice carrying a faint accent of something European sounding. 

The man himself was perhaps in his mid-forties, with white-blond hair shaved at the sides and long on top. The most striking feature was his eyes which were each a different colour; one pale grey, the other so dark it almost appeared black. He was handsome, in an unusual sort of way, and he would have looked incredibly out of place in Little Whinging if it wasn’t for the sleek suit he wore. 

“It’s alright,” Harry said, offering the man a small smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I was just wondering how to make it to the local store?”

Harry felt bad for almost attacking the bloke; all he wanted was directions. 

“You mean the Tesco?”

The man blinked. “Forgive my misunderstanding, I’ve only just moved to Britain. Is Tesco where you buy food?”

Harry nodded, cringing inwardly at how badly he was handling giving simple directions. All Voldemort would have to do is ask Harry how to get somewhere, and Harry would be defeated. “Er, you just go down this street, turn right and keep going until you reach the McDonalds, then go left and you’re there.”

The man’s brows furrowed at the mention of McDonalds, but Harry was sure they had those all over the world. 

“Just look for a big golden ‘m’,” he added helpfully. 

“Ah. Thank you very much,” the man said, smiling. “It was nice to meet you.”

He brushed Harry’s shoulder with his hand before he turned and left, and Harry supposed the man must come from a country where physical contact was quite common. Still, that couldn’t explain the flush that had come to Harry’s face from a mere touch and smile from a handsome, older man. 

As he lay in bed later that night, he couldn’t get the image of those striking eyes out of his mind.

**xXx**

If brooding was a sport, Harry was sure to be a champion in it...or he’d come second to Snape, at the very least. There he was again, sat on a creaking swing set in a lonely park, thinking about Voldemort. It was almost like a beloved hobby he had.

Little Whinging had never been as boring as when there was a war on. Practically right on their very doorstep, a genocidal maniac was launching attack after attack, no stopping him now there was no reason to hide his return anymore, and all Harry could do was sit around waiting patiently like a good little boy. 

He was drawn out of his musings when a small dog with black fur, and white down colouring on his legs, chest, and in the centre of his face, came bounding up to him, barking frantically and pawing at his legs. Harry immediately sprang into action, sliding off the swing and falling to his knees to check the dog over for injuries. 

“Are you alright, boy?” Harry asked, getting another frantic bark in reply. The dog didn’t look visibly hurt, but its eyes were wild and frightened. “You poor thing. What happened? Are you a stray?”

While the dog didn’t look underfed or have matted fur, it was without a collar. 

“Credence,” a voice called urgently from down the path leading to the park. “Credence?”

“Is he looking for you?” Harry asked the dog, who responded by trying to scamper away. Harry caught the dog in his arms before it could escape, afraid of what might happen to such a nervous animal with a busy road nearby. 

The owner of the voice appeared at the gate of the playground, and now Harry could see him closely, he realised it was the man he’d given directions to the day before. In place of a suit, the man instead wore jeans, boots, and a waxed jacket, which wouldn’t have looked out of place at the farmer’s markets that Aunt Petunia had dragged Harry to on occasion.

The casual look was working for the man though, and Harry felt self-conscious for a moment in his overly-large jumper and torn jeans, until he remembered he was holding a trembling dog. The swing set behind Harry began to ratte as the man came inside the playground. Harry cast an uneasy glance around him, sensing an electric tingle in the air which felt uncomfortably magical. 

“Credence!” the man cried again, running towards Harry to take the dog from his arms. The static in the air ceased at once, and Harry wondered if it was just a sign a storm was coming and he was just paranoid about Death Eaters. “Thank goodness you found him.”

“It’s no problem,” Harry said, biting his lip at the adorable sight of a grown man cuddling his dog like a lifeline. The dog, on the other hand, looked incredibly unhappy to be coddled, but was no longer frantically fighting to run away. “He seemed really spooked by something, and I didn’t want him running off into traffic or anything.”

“Thank you! I really can’t express my gratitude to you for helping my Credence. Oh, you’re the young man I met yesterday!”

Harry nodded. “Did you make it to Tesco alright?”

“Yes, I did,” the man answered, kneeling down to clip a collar and leash around Credence to secure him. Credence snapped at the man’s hands as he did so, but to no avail. “Don’t mind him. I don’t think he’s quite over the move from Germany, but there was no way I could leave him behind. I’m Gerhard, by the way. Gerhard Guttannen.”

He offered his hand to Harry, who shook it after just a split moment of hesitation. “I’m Harry Potter. Nice to meet you.”

Gerhard shifted, casting a look down at his dog and smiling before returning his gaze to Harry. “I’ve already taken advantage of your kindness, Harry, so I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but my house is still in a mess with items I’ve had shipped from Germany which I’ve not had chance to unpack yet. I wondered if you’d be willing to help me sort some boxes out and help keep Credence busy? I’ll pay you, of course, and it has to be better than spending all your time outside in this weather.”

Harry frowned at the forwardness of the man, but he supposed Gerhard was German and they probably just had different ways to the British. Still, Harry had only just met the man, so he wasn’t sure how Gerhard knew what Harry spent most of his time doing--if brooding on a swing set counted as doing anything.

“I, ah, was approached by a couple after they saw me asking you for directions yesterday,” Gerhard continued, answering Harry’s unasked question. “They warned me to avoid you because you were, and I quote, a _rotten nuisance_ , who terrorises the streets of the town despite the best efforts of your caring aunt and uncle.”

Harry snorted. Vernon and Petunia had really given the locals the worst image of Harry possible.

“And you want me to help you despite hearing that about me?” Harry asked, raising a brow.

The man smiled graciously, ignoring the sharp yap of Credence who had stood upright to stare at Harry boldly. 

“I’ve seen nothing but kindness in you, Harry, and that cannot be falsified no matter what the villagers say about you. As I said, I know my request is odd so I understand you declining, but I thought a change of scenery would perhaps do you good.”

Gerhard had a point there. Unpacking boxes was hardly exciting, but it would keep his mind occupied, at the very least. And if worse came to worst, and Gerhard turned out to be a serial killer or something, Harry would have no trouble defending himself as long as he kept his wand on him. Truthfully, though, Gerhard seemed like an ordinary, friendly Muggle, and nothing more. 

“You’re right, it will do. I’d be happy to help,” Harry said, making Gerhard’s smile turn beaming. Seeing the man smile because of him made Harry feel pleasantly tingly inside, for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. 

“Excellent,” Gerhard said, pulling a card and pen from his pocket. He scribbled something down, then handed the card to Harry. “My address. Come round whenever you like tomorrow; I’ll be in all day. I look forward to seeing you.”

**xXx**

As soon as the door closed behind him, Gellert reached for his carefully concealed wand and transfigured his clothing back into wizarding wear. Muggles truly had no taste in style, particularly the Muggles of this era.

Credence growled at him again, the mirror in the hallway shaking violently. 

“Careful, Credence,” Gellert tutted. “The Muggles say it’s seven years bad luck if you break a mirror.”

Credence continued to growl, snapping at Gellert’s ankles. Gellert kicked him away. 

“I fail to see why you’re still angry at me, Credence. Keeping you as a dog is far better for our safety here, considering your Obscurus is only just contained in that form...or perhaps you’re not angry about that at all, and you’re simply jealous of _Harry_.”

Credence snarled in response. 

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Gellert cooed mockingly. “You’re my special _weapon_ , Credence. Harry is going to be nothing more than a devoted follower...my _most_ devoted follower when I’m through with him. He’s a sweet thing, isn’t he, saving poor, defenceless _dogs_.”

Yes, Gellert had a very solid plan in action.

Being thrown into the future with Credence had been infuriating, to say the least; Newt Scamander and his damn creatures had a lot to answer for. However, he had since discovered that he had failed in his quests to collect the Hallows, and to raise magical beings above all others, and was now captive in his own prison. Gellert could scarcely believe Albus had actually dared to go against him and won. 

It mattered not what happened in his original timeline, though, because now Gellert had a chance to start again and learn from his mistakes. Nobody knew he was here, and they were all too preoccupied with this _Voldemort_ to notice anything else--Albus included. 

Gellert had been sorely tempted to storm Hogwarts castle and confront Albus, just to see the look on his face. Impulsivity was not a part of Gellert’s character thankfully, and he was going to destroy Albus’s life before he finally took it. 

The first--and main--way Gellert was going to do that was through Harry. 

He had done as much research as he could on the current political and social climate in the Wizarding World, and found that Voldemort was considered the most major threat, and was believed to be more powerful than any other Dark Lord there was. Gellert had taken great offence at this, and was going to prove to the disbelievers that he was the one to truly be feared--he didn’t like to spill magical blood, but sometimes it proved necessary to make a point. 

Albus was considered the only man Voldemort was afraid of, and Harry Potter was the boy rumoured to be the prophesied saviour, the only one able to defeat Voldemort for good. That made Harry’s life valuable to begin with, because Gellert was not going to grant Voldemort any advantages. 

Through further study, Gellert discovered that Albus and Harry were very close, and many considered them to have a grandfatherly-grandson type bond. He found photos from the _Daily Prophet_ , which showed Albus escorting Harry out of the British Ministry a month prior. In those photos, Albus was looking at Harry with a fierce protectiveness, his arms around Harry gentle and supportive. 

It appeared that decades after the death of Ariana, Albus had finally dared to get close to somebody again. It disgusted Gellert, that Albus could throw true love away, wallow in self-pity after killing his sister and alienating his brother, and then move on to love somebody else. Everyone Albus cared about got hurt, and it seemed like he had forgotten that. Albus wasn’t _allowed_ to move on, and it was entirely his fault that Harry was Gellert’s new target. 

Gellert didn’t intend on harming Harry, which Albus should be thankful for, but instead he was going to seduce him. Harry wouldn’t care about his faux-grandfather when he had the affection of an older man, and once Harry was completely enthralled and devoted to Gellert, Gellert would reveal his true identity and take Harry as his second-in-command. Finally, when he was ready, Gellert would reveal to Albus that not only was he existent, he’d been defiling the only person Albus truly cared for. 

It would be glorious. 

The name Grindelwald may have been forgotten, but soon, they would remember what fear truly was.

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, Credence's dog form is a Boston Terrier (which my good friend Lance suggested). More explanations about Gellert and Credence's history before the start of the story will be explained later, don't worry :)


End file.
